


Words

by scullywolf



Series: Growing a Home [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Pete's World, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-16 15:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4630023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullywolf/pseuds/scullywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're only words. But some words are not meant to be shared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

They don't say it in front of other people, yet. The words are still too big, too important, too personal to be shared with the world at large. At home, though, in their little London flat, it spills out of him. It makes sense, really, since he kept it bottled up for so long, before. Words have power, and confessing his feelings aloud made them real, and feelings that were real could hurt him.

  
Or something.  
  
Actually, it all seems more than a bit daft now that he thinks about it, and he wonders what in the hell possessed him to keep the words to himself for so long. Because of course he'd thought them. If he were really being honest with himself, he first realized he truly loved Rose Tyler in a bunker in Utah. Or maybe it was a conference room on Downing Street. A long time ago, at any rate. And he had buried it at first, appalled at his lack of control, falling not only for a human but for one so young. It was sick, in terms of every Time Lord social and ethical more.  
  
And yet, try as he might (and oh did he try), he could not make the feelings go away. So he did his best to ignore them.  
  
(His 'best' was not very good, as it turned out.)  
  
Then, inexplicably, it had begun to appear as though she loved him back. Not just as a mate or, gods help him, a father figure. Properly loved him. And that had scared the living daylights out of him. Really scared him in a way his own feelings couldn't even manage to do.  
  
And then he'd changed, and they'd changed, and when they couldn't keep denying it any longer, they'd still opted to show rather than tell. She was waiting for him to say the words, and he knew it, and coward that he was, he just let her keep waiting. Even when they were ripped apart, and she had been brave enough to tell him, and it was his last chance to say it...  
  
She used to say it so casually. To mates, boyfriends, her mum. Love you! It never felt like a Big Important Thing. Not until him.  
  
It had begun, of course, as what she was certain was an unrequited crush. The more they went through together, the deeper her feelings became, but she could not fathom for a moment that he felt anything for her beyond the sort of affection you have for someone who's been through hell with you. Oh he cared about her, of that she had no doubt. But every time she was almost caught staring, transfixed by the way his chest muscles moved under his jumper or the way his hands manipulated tools as he worked on the TARDIS, she felt the burning mortification of being smitten with someone completely out of her league. Who saw her as a friend or, god help her, some sort of surrogate daughter. Granddaughter. Great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter. (Bloke was 900 after all, even if it was damn near impossible to wrap her head around that fact.)  
  
So it was her big, dirty secret. Couldn't even say it jokingly, lest he detect the truth in her words.  
  
And even once it finally became obvious he miraculously wanted her in the same way she wanted him, it was impossible to ignore that he never said it either. She was so delighted when her advances were not rejected that she was afraid of scaring him off by verbalizing the emotions already being conveyed by their actions. So she was content to wait until he was ready.  
  
Until they ran out of chances. And then she _needed_ him to know. If they were never going to see each other again, she had to tell him. So she did. And then waited three years to hear him say it back.  
  
Now he seems to be making up for lost time. Now that he has decided it does in fact need saying, he makes a point of saying it often, when they are alone. It's honestly a little bit overwhelming. It is just so unlike him. And yes, of course they've talked about it, and she understands his reasons for holding back before (even if they were not the most logical of reasons) and appreciates his honesty and openness as they make their new life together. But it is still so ingrained in her to keep the words inside that they mostly only slip out in gasps against his neck or murmurs into his mouth.  
  
But that's all right. He doesn't seem to mind.

 


End file.
